Counting Cracks
by MarkeytseiaANDMoureeneeaaa
Summary: AU, the story of one of our favorite pilot's addiction to heroin, 3x4, but that's not important. Duo POV!- Written by Markeysteia


Counting Cracks  
  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own G-Wing, or any plot elements from the movie "Trainspotting." I'm warning you now ... it's twisted! ^.~  
  
  
Choose life, choose a job...choose a career... aw fuck it. You know the rest, right? You're expecting me to spew a bunch of bullshit about how much I love the stuff. Well you know what? I don't.   
That's right, I don't love the shit, yet you wonder why I take it. Let me spell it out for you slow students...  
I'm addicted to it, and I hate it. Life's a bitch, right? I hate the way I have to tighten the belt around my arm, I hate the way I have to inject the stuff into my veins...and I hate the way it makes me feel.  
So you may be asking me, "Hey Duo, why do you do it then?"   
I don't know.   
  
So that's where I am now, lying on the floor at Heero's, the only good place for a hook-up these days. I'm staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks. My parents always told me that I was obsessive compulsive, I didn't believe them. Didn't believe the psychologist either, that stupid bitch. Every time I come to Heero's I count the cracks in the ceiling, it's my own private ritual.   
I can see him coming over to me now, his little cash apron on, I know he wants what I owe him, I know that I don't have it. He stands over me, interrupting my counting spree.   
"Maxwell...you got the money?" I'm a little pissed off that he messed up my counting, I look up at this guy. He's about my age, blue eyes, brown hair. Really messy like. I wonder how he got into this mess, why did he decide to start dealing? The money? Girls? Wait...did girls even do heroin?   
I loosen the belt around my arm, sitting up. "Put it on my tab." I say, I look over at the person laying down not too far from me. Quatre Raberba Winner. He's one of those rich types. Again, I start to wonder what he's doing in a sleaze joint like this.   
"Oh.. I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid that I'll have to have some cold, hard cash right up front." His blank face is hardly sympathetic.   
I scowl, stupid bastard. Maybe I shouldn't have quit my job...nah, no time to think about that now. I flip backwards, getting to my feet. I walk over to Quatre and take out his wallet, Heero follows me.   
Taking out a fifty, I toss it to Heero. "Here...that'll tide you over." I remark, a tired grin on my face. Quatre moans and rolls over. Poor bastard, he has no idea what's going on. I grab my jacket, heading for the door.   
"Same time next week?" Heero calls after me. I stop, thinking. Right, my mind's made up.   
"Nope, I'm getting off." I reply, Heero laughs that cold, dead laugh of his.   
"Sure, see ya next week." I give him the finger and walk out the door...  
  
  
I finish throwing up, sit back, and flush the toilet. Two weeks, two fucking weeks! I can't stand it. All I need is another fucking it. Someone pounds on the bathroom door.   
"Duo! Are you okay?" Hilde, God dammit. I can hear the wailing of a baby in the background. Dammit...will someone please shut that fucking baby up!?   
I curl into the fetal position, rocking back and forth. Jesus Christ make her go away. So what if I live in her apartment? Her and that baby, Eve. Who is the father again? For a second, I try to remember if it's me, but, of course, it could be anyone. Hilde hasn't exactly been the Virgin Mary...  
"Just fine!" I cry, the last syllable cut off by a dry heave. That fucking pounding continued. All I need is a hit, then it'll all go away...  
"You don't sound it!" Fucking bitch, why can't she just leave me alone? It isn't any of her fucking business. The baby's wails continue.   
"Shut that friggen baby up before I shoot someone!!" I snap, the pounding stops. I sigh, you never know what physical pain you go through when you're getting off junk.   
"Okay, you still coming to the club later on with all of us?" She asks, her voice muffled by the door. Why the fuck not? I could just barely hear her over the pounding in my brain.   
"Sure...right." I respond, standing up. I splash some water on my face and look in the mirror. I cringe. My hair is scraggly and greasy, pulled back in a messy braid as usual. My cobalt blue eyes are ringed with dark circles. I look like shit.   
"Okay! We're meeting them in a half and hour! Be ready by then!" Yeah, be ready...  
  
Fighting stomach pains, I sit at my normal chair, looking at the people around me. Could I really call them friends? Quatre sits right next to me, clinging to his lover, Trowa. You know how long it took for the bastard to admit to himself that he was gay?   
Trowa is clean, one of the few in our little gang. His drug wasn't heroine, crack, or anything like that. It was sex. Him and Hilde make great friends, they go shopping for shoes together. Wufei sits brooding in the corner of our little booth. He's also clean, his drug isn't sex..or drugs even. It's violence. He carries around a little pocket knife. Crazy little fucker, isn't he?  
Quatre turns his glassy eyes on me. "Duo...why haven't I seen you around Heero's?" He asks me. I feel a bit of pity for him, I mean, the poor kid has been in a euphoric high since...two months ago. I doubt that he has any personality left. Bleakly, I wonder why I hang out with these people.   
"I need to get laid..." I announce. That was one of the worst things about getting off smack, my new found sex drive. I need it, badly, almost worse than I need heroin.   
Hilde gives me a shit-eating grin, sidling over to me, she wraps her arms around my waist and purrs in my ear. "I can show you a good time."   
I shake her off. "No thanks." I reply. "I don't think I want to frolic with the Whore of Babylon." It takes her a second for it to sink in.   
"Hey..." She begins, I stand, heading over to the bar.   
  
It's the usual thing on a Saturday night, at least I think it's Saturday... the usual slew of dirty whores and barflies populate the bar tonight. I eye this blond chick, really long hair, ice blue eyes. I shake an unpure though out of my head. Too creepy.   
That's where I see her. Sitting at the other side of the bar, her dirty blond hair pulled back in a low pony tail. I can feel myself gettin' off on it already.   
She turns her turquoise eyes my way. Hell yeah... Then she gets up and heads towards the door. Those eyes beseeching me. I get up and head after her.   
"Hey!" I call, tapping her on the shoulder. She looks at me, bored.   
"Yes?" Oh yeah, she wants me. I grin the sexiest grin I can muster, considering the fact that I was going through some serious withdrawals, oh yeah... and I looked like shit?   
"Um...I was wondering, can I ...umm..come back to your apartment tonight?" She chews on her lip, weighing the pros and cons of inviting me in.   
A cab pulls up, she probably called it a while back. Wordlessly, she turns and heads to the cab. I watch those long legs as she goes, and almost blush at my unpure thoughts. She sits in the cab, the cabby looks at me.   
"You comin'?" He asks.   
  
Her apartment door swings open, the girl walks inside. Did I learn her name yet? Nah.   
"You don't happen to have..." I have trouble saying the word. "Er..protection?" The girl smiles, making herself look prettier.   
"I'm on the pill...you don't need it." She grabs me and pulls me to her room. Wait...isn't this a little too sudden? Why should I care?   
She pushes me on the bed, getting on top of me. Fuck romance...right? Her hands drift to my jeans zipper, unzipping it and slipping her hands into my boxers.   
Need I say more?   
  
I wake up in her bed the next morning, or at least I hope it's the next morning. My eyes aren't open yet, can you say hangover?   
"Are you awake?" I can hear her soft voice somewhere to the right of me. I reach for her, but she isn't there. My eyes fly open. There she is, a vision, two braids of her dirty blond hair are tied back, the rest of her hair flows free. Her turquoise eyes sparkle, she's dressed in a school uniform. Yes, a vision.   
Wait...  
School uniform!?   
"What the..." She smiles, looking like an angel. Right, an angel I fucked last night.   
"Can you hurry up and pay? I have to go to school."   
Holy living fuck.   
  
"I told you that you'd be back." I glare at Heero, tossing him a hundred. That little episode with the girl, Relena, made me realize that it was better to live in a barely conscious euphoric state then to deal with the utter pointlessness of life.   
"Just shut the fuck up and give me a hit." I snap. Heero nods and goes off, all business. Someone grabs at my ankles, Quatre. He looks up at me, a sweet smile on his face.   
"You came back." He says, happily. I wonder where Trowa is, and why they're together. Then I wonder why I ask myself so many stupid questions.  
I sit down and take my belt off, tightening it around my arm. I spike my vein, now all need is the needle.   
Yeah, choose life, choose a job, choose a career. But why the fuck would I want to do that?   
I take the needle from Heero, jabbing it into my veins, injecting the full syringe. Sometimes I hope that there'll be air bubbles in the needle, so that I die a quick and painless death. But Heero's neurotic like that, he's always about safety.   
I lay back and count the cracks on the ceiling. I'm sleepy, but I know that when I wake up, I'll have to go back to Hilde's apartment. I'll have to go back to sitting in smoke filled bars hoping to get laid by underage teen hookers. I'll have to deal with Quatre, and the sad look on Trowa's face whenever they're together. I'll have to deal with baby Eve.   
Maybe strong people can get up, quit and resume life. But I'm not a strong person... I'm weak, okay?   
I'm Duo Maxwell, heroin addict, damn proud.  
I count the cracks on the wall. I'm not obsessive compulsive...they just think I am. 


End file.
